


Angels We Have Heard On High

by MickyRC



Series: Star of Wonder Ineffable Advent [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Advent Calendar, Christmas, Holidays, Inspired by Music, canon-typical religious themes, nativity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21662281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickyRC/pseuds/MickyRC
Summary: Crowley wasn't expecting a choir of angels to suddenly appear overhead.  Then again, there's one angel he should be used to surprises from.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Star of Wonder Ineffable Advent [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559308
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Angels We Have Heard On High

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 of my Star of Wonder advent calendar, in which each day's fic is inspired by a song from my favorite Christmas album, The Roches' _We Three Kings._ It's also going up on tumblr [over here!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/micky-r-c)

The music had been a shock. He covered it well, of course, but some of the other shepherds sharing his hill had been less than composed. To be fair, it wasn’t every day that nighttime clouds took on the shape of angels and started singing.

“It’s beautiful,” breathed one of the boys next to him, the starlight shining on his upturned face.

Crowley sneered a little, but restrained himself from saying anything. It was a bit much, in his mind. I mean, really. Did they _have_ to put up a whole new star?

But the humans around him were suitably awed, so he guessed Heaven would be counting this as a win. And even if the whole thing was thoroughly obnoxious, there was… something. Something picking at the space behind his ribs.

_Just the starlight,_ he told himself, staring up at the angelic choir over the plain. _They’ve gone and messed up a perfectly good night sky, that’s all._ But then they changed to a new song and— _oh. Oh, so that’s it._

All angels are musicians. It’s part of their makeup, something built into them from the beginning. Way back when, back Before, it was something they all did together: celestial harmonies in layers and layers and layers ringing through the halls and cathedrals of Heaven.

There is no room for music in Hell. The hallways are too winding and damp for anything resembling acoustics, and for many of the Fallen… well. Boiling sulfur and all. Scream long enough and even the most blessed vocal chords will give out.

He shouldn’t listen anymore. His tempting wouldn’t be a match for this kind of power, anyway, he should just go and find somewhere else to work. But he hadn’t heard music like this in so long. Oh, sure, the humans did it, too, and they might even get somewhere with it one of these centuries. And this wasn’t _really like the music of Heaven_ ; it’d been diluted, toned down for mortal ears.

Still. He couldn’t quite look away.

So it wasn’t very hard for a particular angel to sneak up on him. “I do hope you aren’t here to cause trouble, my dear.”

Crowley covered his jump with a snort, though he couldn’t keep himself from giving Aziraphale a once over. He hadn’t changed much since the last time they’d run into each other. To be fair, neither had Crowley. “I’m a demon, angel. Trouble is what I do.”

Aziraphale didn’t even glance at him, eyes locked on the heavenly host up above. “Well, one can hope.” The starlight shone through his pale hair like it was spun silver. “Oh, I love this one,” he said as the choir moved on to their next hymn, grinning like they were singing it just for him.

Crowley was still staring at him. “Shouldn’t you be up there with them? Angel, and all?”

“Oh, no, not this time.” Aziraphale didn’t seem bothered by this. “Stationed down here, well. I’ve missed a few too many rehearsals.” He turned his smile to Crowley then, just for a moment, and that was… that was strange, right? That an angel should look at a demon like that, like they were—what, like they were friends? That was… nah. He had to be reading that wrong. Still… Aziraphale had never turned him away before.

“Do you miss it?”

“Hm? Sorry, dear?”

“Do… never mind.”

Aziraphale’s gaze stayed aimed at the heavens. “Sometimes.” He said it quietly, like anyone else would be listening right then, but there was a string of honesty in it that Crowley thought most ethereal beings could learn something from. “It’s home, of course. But I do like being on Earth.”

Crowley hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. That was a stupid question to ask; too many ways to turn it back on him. Most angels would have—assuming they didn’t smite him on sight—but Aziraphale hadn’t even alluded to the Fall. It was… nice, knowing he wasn’t going to bring it up. Still, better to change the subject.

“So. I guess things start to change here, huh? Son of God and all that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not involved in policy decisions.”

“Yeah, but. This is supposed to be big, right? Your lot wouldn’t be making such a fuss if it wasn’t.” As if to make his point, the angels hovering in the sky brought out the trumpets for a particularly spectacular chord.

Aziraphale shrugged. “I suppose.”

Crowley pushed on. “So something’s gonna happen, right? Things are moving.”

Aziraphale sighed. “I… oh, I really _don’t_ know, dear.” He finally looked at Crowley again, and it wasn’t all hope and joy in his eyes. “Is it horrible of me to wish it wouldn’t? I know,” he cut the demon off before he could interject. “I know everything that happens is meant to, even if I don’t understand it, but… but, well, I quite _like_ things like this, I think. The Earth, I mean.”

Crowley could have teased, could have said something snarky to turn them back to their usual rhythm. But the choir on high was still singing, and the too-bright starlight lit Aziraphale’s face just so, and the mortals on the hill wouldn’t know or care if he was acting demonically.

“No, angel. I get it.” The lines in Aziraphale’s face didn’t relax. “I think… I dunno. It’s ineffable, isn’t it?”

That at least made the angel crack a smile. “Yes. Yes, I suppose so.”

He turned back to the sky, and Crowley did, too, as the angels there launched into another round of ‘gloria’s.

It might not be theirs to understand, or even to sing about. But they could still listen, at least, as the heavenly choir sang a slightly new world into being.


End file.
